


to weave a life

by Empress_of_Trash



Category: Naruto
Genre: Child Neglect, Multi, Parent-Child Relationship, SI-OC, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-07 06:59:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17955773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Empress_of_Trash/pseuds/Empress_of_Trash
Summary: A child just wanted to live, but she couldn't do it alone. She needed help, needed it so badly that she remembered. Remembered a life and a story.She knows where she is and she is determined to live. To make a life for herself.





	to weave a life

Shiori had a routine and rarely deviated from it. She was a creature of habit and there was some measure of comfort in having something within her control. So much of life wasn’t.

 

Every morning she woke up well before dawn, the sky still a velvety blue to begin cleaning. Depending on how upset her aunt had been the night before or if she had any company, this ranged from picking up a few beer bottles to picking up a strangers scattered clothes or once memorably having to clean up the broken remains of every plate they owned.

 

After she finished cleaning from the night before she would head to the kitchen to start preparing breakfast. Something small she could eat while working for herself, a fresh patch of formula for Suzume, and something for her aunt tucked into the fridge for whenever she woke up.

 

Once the immediate food was taken care of she would go check on Suzume. If the baby was awake she would be changed if needed and strapped into her harness to spend the morning hours with her cousin. If she was asleep transferring her to her carrier worked just as well. Suzume was a quiet, easy baby which was something Shiori was eternally grateful for. They would enjoy breakfast while Shiori completed any homework she hadn’t finished the night before and then when the first light began to creep over the mountain she would pack up her school bag and Suzume’s baby bag to take the infant a few doors down to be watched while Shiori went to the Academy.

 

There would sometimes be a slight deviation, say if one of her aunt’s friends had spent the night, but they could usual be ushered out with coffee and painkillers or sent back to sleep off the hangover in the guest bedroom. It was only when her aunt’s “special friends” as she called her lovers stayed over that Shiori was ever truly bothered.

 

Most of the time the men did not even realize that there were children in the house at all and the sight of Shiori and a baby had led to more than one screaming match that almost had the Uchiha called on them. The more awkward ones usually fled at the sight of her. A few repeat offenders had attempted to try something more fatherly with her and the hint of domesticity had led them to be sent packing the moment her aunt caught wind of it. The ones who ignored her were the easiest to handle and only once had one taken an uncomfortable amount of interest that had made all the hairs on her body stand up at the sight of him smiling at her. Her aunt had been quick to throw him on his ass and call Officer Kasumi about him. After that her aunt had gotten much more picky about who exactly she brought back to the house and Shiori had the tentative hope maybe she wouldn’t have to deal with the one night stands again.

 

When Shiori woke up for the fifth time in two weeks to the smell of coffee she just let out a resigned sigh. ****He****  had apparently spent the night again. Grumbling under her breath, she pushed her disobedient bangs out of her face and began getting ready. She couldn’t find her favorite pair of socks and her brush kept pulling at the tangles in her hair leaving her more annoyed already.

 

She went into the living room fully prepared to be passive aggressive only to find that the bleach blond who had been interrupting her mornings wasn’t alone. He was bundled off to the side of the table, clutching a cup of coffee, but he couldn’t keep her attention. Instead Shiori starred across the bar that separated the kitchen and the living room to see her __aunt__  awake, before noon, and __cooking__.

 

There was so much wrong with the image it took her a moment to register everything else.

 

Ochi Tsubame was beautiful woman. There was no questioning that. Her dark brown hair fell shiny and straight like a waterfall of chocolate. Her face was clear and heart shaped, her lips a little too thin and her nose big, but her lively eyes and deep throaty laugh more than made up for it. She was tall for a woman and more fit than most civilian women with just the tiniest bit of fat on her trim stomach and unfashionably tiny breasts and wide hips. Her aunt was beautiful, but in a unique not-quite traditional way, too sultry, too sharp, and too tan to fit the traditional civilian standards of beauty that more closely reflected porcelain dolls. She had sharper edges than most expected and an acidic tongue when she wanted, but she could be charming and vivacious when in a good mood and drew people in like a fire.

 

Her aunt was beautiful, but she was far from soft or, as far as Shiori could see, ever truly happy.

 

Except now she was. Shiori knew she was gaping, but she could not recall anytime that she had ever seen her aunt so relaxed. She had a strange softness to her face and smile and she was singing.

 

Shiori felt a hard lump in the back of her throat at her aunt’s clear voice went rhythmically up and down to a familiar song she hadn’t heard in years.

 

“ _ _If I could have just one wish I would go back to who I was. Yesterday,__ ,” Tsubame sang as she carefully flipped the grilling fish. “A _ _nd I’d say my goodbyes to you. If my feelings stay the same and do not change or fade away, just meet me, at our favorite cherry tree.”__

 

It was the song maybe or the voice or even the unfamiliar softness, but suddenly Tsubame wasn’t the only one Shiori was seeing. A prickle down her spine alerted her and made her look up to find Tsubame’s latest lover looking at her. Keishin, a good six years younger than her aunt, and only a teenager usually looked bored and vaguely uninterested when they interacted. Now though there was something almost like concern in his gaze. Shiori realized her eyes were burning and waited breathlessly for him to say something, draw her aunt’s attention and make this so much worse. Instead, the teenager’s face went carefully blank and he respectfully looked down giving her a moment.

 

Shiori didn’t bother feeling grateful. She fled, like a coward, back to her room.

 

She wasn’t sure why the house was already clean or what had possessed her aunt to act so out of character, but clearly Shiori wasn’t needed right now. Even if she was there was no way she would go out there and listen to that song with a straight face. She curled up in front of her door the moment she’d closed it and settled her head on her knees just breathing.

 

She couldn’t trust this change, no matter how it tore at her heart. She wouldn’t.

 

. . .

 

Hours later, and more in control of herself, Shiori left her home in a daze. Tsubame’s seeming personality change had extended passed making breakfast and getting up before noon. When Shiori had calmed down enough to start preparing Suzume she’d found the baby already in the kitchen eagerly drinking a bottle while Tsubame watched. Keishin had left, but her aunt was still fully awake and ready for the day. Breakfast had been made, as well as, to further Shiori’s shock, a simple bento for her as well. Only her aunt’s annoyed expression at Shiori’s obvious surprise and grumpy comment about “already cooking” so she had decided “why not” had helped calm her slightly. The annoyance and the sheer simpleness of the bento assured her it was real. Tsubame hadn’t suddenly been switched with some other domestic goddess or something.

 

( _ _No Other Aunt with button eyes__ , a long buried part of her teased.)

 

Still, even in the face of the seeming togetherness Shiori felt reluctant to leave, until her aunt had assured her she would be dropping the baby off at Granny Sora’s about three so Tubame could leave for ‘work’. Shiori had never been quite clear on what exactly her aunt did to earn money and usually didn’t bother asking. She accepted that some weeks she’d drop money onto the countertop every evening and others Shiori would need to pinch and scrounge to insure they had formula and food. That, at least, was normal behavior enough for Shiori to leave despite the surreal nature of this morning.

 

She was in such a daze, she didn’t even realize how early it was until she pushed open the door to the classroom to find only a slightly startled Iruka and a ashy blonde haired girl who never spoke were the only ones present.

 

“Good morning, Shiori-kun,” Iruka greeted, quickly regaining his composure, though his eyes did flicker over her carefully at the out of character behavior.

 

Shiori returned the greeting with a slight bow and muttered, “Good morning Sensei.”

 

She shuffled to her seat in the middle of the room, by the wall, to settle in and work on her unfinished work. Suzume had been fussy last night and required more attention than usual, leaving her with a while sheet of problems to finish. She got out the sheet now and looked over it dully the kanji swimming before her eyes uncomprehendingly. It was a simple cipher. So, simple a child could do it. In fact, children did regularly. It was more of a review sheet than any new material. Still Shiori couldn’t focus on it. The kanji disappeared and flickered and she felt her understanding of it slow. Instead of connecting the symbol directly to the images they inspired her brain seemed to slow instead translating them back through another language and into images. The old herfelt more present in her distress and confusion.

 

“Would you like some help Shiori-kun?” a soft voice interrupted and Shiori jerked, pencil whining across the paper. Her heart thudded hard as she looked wide eyed up at Iruka. The man kept his gentle smile-- _ _man, more of an infant, he’s younger than we were__ , a quiet part of her said so much louder than usual--but she recognized the careful look in his eyes. Iruka was kind and gentle and often worried about his students.

 

( _ _He’s our favorite for a reason__ , that part of her teased and continued more bitterly, __and he has reason to worry doesn’t he?__ )

 

Shiori pulled up a smile, relaxing and aware that it was timid and shy. She was shy, everyone knew that. Barely speaking up in class with no friends. The ignored civilian girl who read and played with herself at recess or even more condemning, stayed in the classroom.

 

Friendless and odd, why wouldn’t she be shy?

 

( _ _We didn’t used to though.__  Came the whisper with said half-remembered images of laughter and warmth and trust and acceptance. Shiori crushed the memory with a heavy heart.)

 

“Thank you, Sensei,” she said voice barely above a whisper and the man-- _ _only seventeen__ , hissed her mind--settled in to review the work with her.

 

The coaxing helped her focus, helped her remember where and who she was and not what she had lost. She was Kanno Shiori, simple civilian kunoichi hopeful. She was nothing more and had only experienced the major loss of her mother before she could remember her.

 

( _ _A lie on both counts. We were always a good liar. We lost a world and we could never forget__ ** _ ** _her_**_**.)

 

She would be fine. Her aunt would go back to normal and things would be fine.


End file.
